And Sorrows End
by Laura16
Summary: After the vicious death of the daughter of Francine's college friend, she and Efraim Beaman find themselves the target of a brutal murderer. Relocated to a safe house in suburbia after their homes are destroyed, they fight the clock to find the killer.


And Sorrows End

The characters of Scarecrow and Mrs. King belong to Warner Brothers, Inc. and Shoot the Moon Productions. I have just borrowed them for this story and have not profited from their use. The story premise is the property of the author.

Post season 4 by a few years. My thanks to ele, Patti and Lori for the beta.

After the vicious death of the daughter of Francine's college friend, she and Efraim Beaman find themselves the target of a brutal murderer. Relocated to a safe house in suburbia after their homes are destroyed, they fight the clock to find the killer before he catches up to them and everyone around them.

Prologue

South East DC

11:20 p.m. Sunday Night

Many of the street lights had been broken, their shattered glass embedded into the asphalt. Those that were left did little to illuminate the surrounding area. Each sound seemed to emanate from within the multitude of shadows that slashed darkly across the neighborhood.

Pulling the hood of her jacket up around her shoulders, the woman hurried down the sidewalk trying to keep within the pools of darkness. She could feel the heavy stares of the residents as they followed her every step from behind the safety of the bars on their windows.

Another block and she'd be at the Metro Station, another block and she'd be safe. She berated herself for not telling anyone where she was going. Having done this for so long she did the one thing she never should have; she allowed herself to get so comfortable with the routine that she stopped taking her security seriously.

The slamming of car doors behind her made her dive into a darkened walkway between two houses. Catching her breath, she tried to get her bearings before making a move.

The shouts and calls from those looking for her had her quietly moving deeper down the path. Flipping the hood of her coat over her head to cover her hair and shadow her face, she flattened herself against the shingled side of the house, peering out on the street from behind a downspout that was precariously attached to the wall.

As the voices moved away from her, she released the breath she had been holding and looked around her. The walkway led to an overgrown backyard with several bare trees that afforded her some cover. Beyond the battered fences was the Metro Station. Biting her lip, she weighed her circumstances; stay where she was and be found, or run and be found. The only constant was being found and if she had her choice, she'd rather be in the open if it came down to a confrontation.

Staying to the trees and unkempt brush, she moved through the yards that abutted Howard Road, inching ever closer to the station with each yard she passed through. As her adrenaline flagged, her teeth began to chatter from the cold wind that blew off of the Anacostia River. Not from fear she told herself repeatedly, hoping to convince herself it was true.

A break in the fence leading to the street appeared just ahead of her. Leaning on the stunted trunk of a tree, she closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of the night around her. Dogs were barking a street over which told her that her pursuers were now looking in the backyards for her. A yell and the answering gunfire propelled her onward to the opening.

She plunged through a break in the fence and onto the street; the Metro station was just ahead. Without looking, she ran frantically toward the safety the station offered.

The gunning of a car motor behind her wrenched a cry from deep within her as she gave every last ounce of energy she had to reach the entrance of the station. Tires screeched and in her haste she tripped as she leapt to clear the curb, her foot catching on the heavy exposed bolts that held the street light in place. She felt herself falling and tried to roll on her shoulder so she would be able to get up and move quickly. Slamming into the corrugated aluminum of the ticket booth, she climbed to her feet to escape into the station.

"Francine!"

Francine Desmond stopped and turned at the sound of her name. "Efraim, oh Efraim…help me!" She flung herself toward the man running to her. He caught her in his arms and pulled her to his car, literally shoving her inside.

"How did you find me? Oh Efraim, I'm so happy to see you!"

Beaman looked over his shoulder as several vehicles swerved around the corner onto the street; he jumped in his car and hit the gas; leaving the squeal of spinning tires and smell of burnt rubber behind. The forward momentum of the vehicle slammed the driver's door closed, forcing both of them against the seat from the energy of the thrust. "I had a phone call from a Kimberly Jones; she said you were in big trouble," he told her as he maneuvered the Buick. "She told me you had given her my number in case of an emergency, told me where she lived and I got here as fast as I could."

Francine looked down at her hands, covered in Kimberly's blood. "She's dead, she had been shot when I got there, oh my God Efraim it was…they tortured her…" her voice broke and she began to shake from the shock. "She died in my arms."

"I know…I went there first; I saw your car, your purse lying in the yard and I hoped…I knew I had to find you."

The big engines in the cars following them ate up the distance and slammed into the bumper; Beaman grabbed Francine before she could hit the dashboard. "Buckle up Francine," Efraim ordered as he threw the car into low gear; the engine whining but delivering the power needed to jump forward yet again. Merging onto Capital Street, he headed for the bridge, cutting through traffic to put distance between them and those following them.

"Can you get a make and plate on them?" he asked as he swerved around another vehicle.

"Yes, it's a Lincoln with Maryland plates, I…I can't quite make out the numbers," Francine told him as she further twisted in the seat to try and get a better view of the license plates. Hearing Efraim swear, she spun back just in time to see a road crew truck lose its tailgate and the heavy water barrels it was carrying.

"Hang on," Efraim yelled as he yanked on the steering wheel, barely missing the metal gate and the first of the barrels as they landed on the bridge. Sparks flew as he grazed the concrete barriers dividing the traffic lanes when he passed the truck.

The Lincoln behind him didn't have the luck they did; it drove directly into one of the falling barrels. The driver swerved into the side of the bridge just as it was hit full force from behind by the second Lincoln, the sickening sound of crunching metal unmistakable. The tail of the sedan rose into the air only to be struck by the Lincoln again, this time sending it over the bridge rail-end over hood- and into the Anacostia River below. The second Lincoln slammed into the barricade, crumpling the entire frame of the vehicle.

Efraim barely let up on the accelerator as he came off the bridge. With a look at Francine's ashen face and blood stained hands he made the decision to take her to his place.

He parked his car, unbuckled and leaned over the back seat. Finding his gym bag on the floor, he rummaged inside until he found a sweatshirt. Efraim turned back and handed the shirt to Francine. "Put this over your coat and keep your hands inside the pockets until we get inside."

She nodded and took the clothing, staring at it until he took it from her and gently pulled it over her head. He got out and walked over to open the passenger door and helped her out. "It's gonna be okay Francine. You're going to be all right. Let's go in and you can get a shower and then we'll figure out what happened, okay?"

Their luck held; they didn't encounter any of Efraim's neighbors on their way to his apartment. Once inside, he bolted the door and led Francine to his bathroom. He helped her with his sweatshirt and her coat, brought her towels and a pair of his clean sweats and closed the door to the bathroom. When he heard the shower start, he went to the kitchen and picked up the phone. Getting the night desk, he gave the day's codes and clearances and asked for Billy.

It took only moments to be connected to their boss who was taking the interruption to his evening badly. "This had better be good Beaman, what is it?"

Beaman quickly explained what had happened. He heard Billy sigh.

"I'm on my way."

**Act I **

**Beaman's Apartment**

**Georgetown**

**12:43 a.m. Monday Morning**

Billy hung up the telephone and turned to his agents. "They have the driver of the second Lincoln at the trauma center and the DC police with the help of Navy divers are looking for the first sedan in the river. The identification on the men they do have in custody state they're from Curaçao. They had a sizeable amount of US currency, unmarked, in the trunk of the car they were driving."

"What about Francine's friend?" Beaman cast a quick look at Francine sitting on his couch; she hadn't touched the coffee or the brandy he had poured her. He frowned as he watched her shiver.

"I've got Donnelly over there with an Agency investigative team as well as DC homicide. They found Francine's purse, but her wallet is missing."

Beaman nodded. "It's probably in one of the Lincoln's."

"You're more than likely right. After homicide finishes here, we should move her to a safe house until we're sure."

"Let her stay here. Send a couple of sitters to watch or sit in the living room, but let her stay here tonight. I don't think it's a good idea to move her right now. I'll stay out here and she can have my bed, but I don't want to take her anywhere until we have an idea of what's going on and she has had some rest."

"Has it occurred to you since you received a phone call that these people may know who you are too?"

"And two of them are in the trauma center and the others are in the river."

"And if they're not? What if there are more?"

Beaman shook his head and went over to Francine. He picked up the glass of brandy and held it to her lips, "Drink it," he ordered; gently patting her back when she coughed and sputtered as she swallowed. "There won't be, at least not tonight. We'll deal with it tomorrow. Send someone to watch over us, but there's been enough tonight."

Billy stared hard at his agents. Beaman was holding himself in tight control, but Francine---he'd never seen her like this. She was taking this hard and until he found out who Kimberly Jones was and her relationship to Francine, he wouldn't understand the dynamics at play. He nodded and saw Beaman relax. Picking up the telephone, he called the Agency and ordered the activation of security and surveillance details.

A knock on the door had them all jumping; Francine nearly knocked over the brandy when she bolted off the couch. One of the agents opened the door to allow Donnelly to enter along with two DC homicide detectives wanting to get right down to business.

"Lieutenant Murray and Sergeant Webster, DC homicide, let's get on with it, alright?"

At Francine's nod, she began to tell them about the evening's events.

**Act I Scene II**

**Beaman's Apartment**

**Georgetown**

**8:01 a.m. Monday Morning**

Matthew Donnelly took up his position at the door to Beaman's apartment as soon as his pager had gone off. The babysitters had sent one word; 'Scarecrow' and he knew that Lee would be at the door within moments.

He and Beaman had sat in the living room watching movies until Francine had come out of the bedroom around 3 in the morning. She had sat on the couch next to Beaman, put her head on his shoulder and fallen asleep. Beaman had put his arm around his partner and shaken his head and Donnelly knew there was a wealth of meaning in the gesture and none of it boded well for the associates of those who had killed Miss Jones and chased Francine Desmond.

At the rap on the door, he checked the peep hole just to make sure it was Stetson and opened the door. Raising his finger to his lips, he pointed to the couch where Francine still slept.

Lee nodded and pointed to the kitchen, Donnelly following him in. "Where's Beaman?" he asked.

"I'm right here," the man in question stated as he walked in the room, his hair still damp from the shower he had just taken.

"Billy filled me in; rough night. By the way, your car looks like it took a beating at the demolition derby."

"I'd forgotten about my car," Beaman tossed off a shrug. "I always told myself there was a reason why I hung onto an 8 cylinder gas guzzler." He poured himself a cup of coffee and held up an empty cup for Lee.

"Yeah, thanks. Here's the word from the hospital and morgue—the driver of the second Lincoln is in critical condition, the passenger died en-route to the hospital. No evidence of anyone in the backseat. They finally found the other car in the river at sunrise this morning, the driver and front passenger both buckled in tight. But it looks like there was someone in the back and that they got out."

The look on Beaman's face was incredulous. "No, there's no way! How the hell did anyone survive that hit and fall into the river? They have to be mistaken, it's impossible!"

Lee shrugged. "I don't know, but the window was down, the seatbelt cut and a shoe left inside. We found Francine's wallet in the backseat, her license was out and floating, but we have to assume that she's known to at least one of the suspects."

Beaman rubbed his eyes and stopped suddenly when Francine came into the room. "Do you want some coffee, Francine?"

She nodded and took a seat at the table, eyeing Lee. "So, someone survived the fall. Do we have identification on the others?"

"Yeah, we do. But first, I need you to tell me what happened last night."

Pulling up the collar of Efraim's sweatshirt to cover her shoulder, Francine forestalled her answers with a sip of coffee. She closed her eyes and then opened them quickly. She rested her head on her hand and sighed. "Kimberly Jones is…was the daughter of a woman I went to college with. Her mother Desiree and I were very close, best friends through our years in college and beyond. She became a teacher while I followed this path. Kimberly was born in our second year of college. It was really tough on her, but she did it."

"Where's her mother now?" Lee asked.

"She's dead," she said sorrowfully and shook her head. "She died three years ago-cancer. She ignored the symptoms and then when she couldn't ignore them anymore, it was too late. Desiree and Kimberly had a very rocky relationship; Kimberly was wild and involved in anything that could be considered bad for you; the worse the better and preferably illegal. She ran away when she was 15. I managed to find her just before her mother died. Des asked me to watch over Kimberly and I guess I did a bang up job of it."

The men shook their heads; it was a story they all had heard too often to be shocked. Efraim sat down beside his partner and took her hand. "You can't make someone do what they don't want to Francine. If her mother couldn't, why do you think you should have been able to pull off what she wasn't able to accomplish? She turned to you when she was in trouble and she tried to protect you by calling me when it was turned bad."

Francine dashed away the tears in her eyes, "One good deed; does that erase all the bad ones? All the pain and all the sorrow; does it just go away? She was so young with no chance to change it, no chance at all."

Lee put his hand on his friend's shoulder, "It seems that she did in those last minutes and that's all that matters."

Beaman nodded his agreement. "Did she tell you anything about these people?"

"No, but I had my suspicions. I've tried for three years to get her to walk away. I started to look into it, but she told me she would disappear if I didn't stop and she did just that for awhile. She began calling me again about three months ago; she was frightened and didn't know what to. Then yesterday she called, she said that something had happened and she wanted out. It involved a young woman, she said the men had killed her in a very brutal manner and dumped her body in an incinerator and---I can't even repeat what they did to that girl."

All four agents were silent, each lost in their own thoughts about the night before. The pager at Donnelly's waist buzzing caused them to jump. Looking at the read out, Donnelly cracked a slight grin and showed the display to Lee who sighed and rolled his eyes.

Lee stood and went to the door to wait. Seeing the questioning looks from Francine and Beaman, he shrugged. "Amanda's here."

Francine looked at Efraim; her expression one of apprehension. "I'm worried about her being around me, what if we're being watched? Efraim, you saw what they did…," her fear was palpable as her voice broke.

"Do you think we'd be able to keep her away?" Beaman asked, deliberately not answering her question.

Lee shook his head, "Frankly I'm surprised it took her this long to get here. Hopefully she's found some answers for us so we'll be able to make plans for how we're going to handle this."

A knock sounded and Lee pulled open the door. "Took you long enough," he greeted his wife.

"I ran into some roadblocks on the computer and I also wanted to bring Francine's emergency luggage from the Agency with me," she dragged the wheeled bag in, giving it one last tug. "What do you keep in here Francine, bricks?"

Efraim stepped over and took the suitcase from Amanda. "If you think this is heavy, you should pick up her purse," he remarked with a look at Francine as he wheeled it into the bedroom.

Ignoring the jibe, Francine stood and wrapped her arms around herself. "Amanda, I really don't want you involved in this- not now. If something happened to you…I don't know if I could live with that."

Amanda hugged Francine, stepped back and looked the blonde in the eye. "Nothing is going to happen to me. And nothing is going to happen to you, or to Efraim. Isn't that right, Lee?"

"She knows that Amanda."

Amanda shot her husband a disgusted look. "Sometimes we need to be reminded that somebody else has our back, that we're not alone when things are really bad. Like now, right Lee?"

"Yeah," Lee replied with a roll of his eyes. "What did you find out?"

"Well, I have a safe house to start," she announced, dropping her eyes.

Lee nodded approvingly, "Is it in a neighborhood that's easy for us to monitor, good access in and out of the area?"

Amanda nodded her head enthusiastically. "Oh yes, a very nice neighborhood and a very nice house too. And the best part of it is, well, it'll be easy for us to monitor."

Lee looked at his wife, confusion written all over his face. His eyes opened wide and he started to laugh. "You didn't," he moaned.

Beaman began to laugh. "That's rich, Amanda, that's really rich!"

"What? What am I missing?" Francine asked. "What's rich, Efraim?" Then suddenly she groaned. "No, oh you can't be serious?"

"What are you talking about?" Donnelly asked as he tried to keep up with the conversation.

"There's a house on Amanda and Lee's street that a group of Soviet agents used as a front. Unbeknownst to the Soviets, it was across the street from Lee and Amanda," Efraim filled him in. "Now it seems that the owners can't rent it out. Nice place-what do you say Francine? Shall we take this to the suburbs?"

"I don't know Efraim, I just don't know," she turned and walked into Efraim's bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Efraim sighed. "She's really on edge; if you could have seen her last night when I found her," he shook his head. "I got to her just before those men caught up with her. I've never seen her like that, she was terrified."

"I read the reports of how Miss Jones died, I don't know how anyone could do that to another person," Amanda sadly shook her head.

"It's personal for her; Kimberly Jones was the daughter of a very close friend of Francine's. She feels guilty," Efraim filled her in. "When I got to the house and found Miss Jones dead, I nearly lost it at the thought that I'd find Francine that way too. I heard shouts outside and then gunfire and I hopped in my car figuring that Francine was on foot and would be looking for a way out of the area, so I hurried to the Metro station. I found her running across the street like the hounds of hell were on her heels."

Amanda reached out and put her hand on his arm, "Thank goodness you were there, thank goodness you found her."

Beaman nodded, "I don't know what I would have done if they had gotten to her first."

"They didn't Efraim; you did," she quickly changed the subject. "I ran into some trouble with the computer trying to look up information on the names of the men in those cars. We need you to see what you can find on them. Should we go to the Agency and while we're there, get the house set up for you and Francine?"

Efraim nodded as he glanced at his bedroom door. Standing, he walked over and knocked. "Francine," he called when there was no answer. He knocked again and went in, closing the door behind him.

"Francine is really taking this bad," Amanda stated with a sad shake of her head.

"She feels responsible and had a good fright on top of it. Beaman got there just in time."

"Just like a good partner always does," she replied, laying her hand on Lee's arm. "Do you think they're in any real danger?"

"I hope not, but after reading the preliminary homicide report, Billy doesn't want to take any chances. And I agree with him."

"Where do we start?"

"Let's head into the Agency and let Beaman hit the computers and see what he can find."

**Act II **

**The Agency **

**Q Bureau**

**11:45 a.m. Monday Morning**

"That's where I kept running into roadblocks too, Efraim. I get this list of corporations and then nothing."

Efraim nodded and kept working as Amanda watched over his shoulder. "The corporations are dummies set up to wash money. The ABC islands are rife with this kind of stuff," he told her as he continued to work the computer.

"ABC islands?"

"Aruba, Bonaire and Curaçoa; otherwise known as the Dutch Antilles or the Dutch West Indies. They're self governed entities of the Netherlands. Willemstad is the capital of Curaçao and it's the administrative center for all the Dutch islands with the exception of Aruba."

"The Dutch allow this," Amanda asked, pointing to the computer screen.

"The smuggling and money laundering?" Francine asked as she read the reports that Efraim was printing out. "No, but it's what happens down in the islands. A corporation is set up in the Netherlands and is administered by an Antilles trust company and a French bank loans the _silent _owner his own money. And since they are protected by the islands iron clad secrecy laws, they're away from any prying eyes. Most of these corporations are created mainly as tax shelters and believe me, many people use it just for that, but so do the drug syndicates and other assorted unfriendlies. That's what you ran into on the computer, the wall of silence that allows all of this to go on."

The door to the Q Bureau opened and Lee walked in. "I went with Billy to interview the driver. We didn't get anything out of him."

Beaman pushed out of the chair and headed toward the door, angry if the scowl on his face was any indicator.

"Billy didn't want you to go, Beaman. It wouldn't have been a good idea. Trust me; I know what I'm talking about. We needed you here, working the computer. It's the only way we're going to track down who and what we're dealing with."

"You don't expect me to sit around playing computer games when there's a _live_ suspect awake and just itching to have the right questions asked in the correct manner, do you? Not this time, Stetson." He wrenched open the door and stepped out.

"Efraim," Francine called out. "Stay with me please?"

Beaman stopped; the battle within him to go and extract vengeance or stay with Francine evident in his stance, the look on his face. He finally sighed and shook his head, coming back into the office and taking his seat at the computer. Francine walked over and laid her hand on his shoulder, reading the computer screen as he worked.

"Uh, we also stopped by your place Francine-it's been trashed."

"Trashed?"

"Yeah," Lee coughed nervously. "Destroyed, everything is just…completely destroyed."

"My clothes," the blonde asked; her voice strangled.

"Now can I go to the hospital to _interview_ the suspect?" Beaman asked.

"Yeah, they did a thorough job. They took a couple of photographs too; one from a frame on your bookcase, the other from your nightstand." At her nod, he tried again to make himself clear. "Francine, we have to know who was in the pictures so we can get a detail on them. They could very well be targets."

"Francine, it'll be okay, we'll find them and keep them safe," Amanda interjected.

"We know who they are, Amanda; the pictures are of Francine and me."

Amanda and Lee shared a look. "All right, we don't have to worry about that…." Amanda's voice trailed off as Francine quickly left the office. "I'll talk to her," she said as she followed Francine.

"What was that all about? Her clothes I can understand, but a couple of pictures?" Beaman shrugged and looked at Lee for answers.

At least this was something that Lee did understand. "It's not the pictures, it's what they represent," Lee rolled his eyes when Beaman didn't pick up on the importance of the missing photographs. "They're photographs of the two of you and seemingly you matter more to her than her wardrobe."

Understanding dawned on Beaman's face. "When did you figure this stuff out?"

Lee slapped him on the shoulder. "About five minutes ago, Beaman."

**Act II Scene II**

**The Agency**

**Counterintelligence Bullpen**

**1:45 p.m. Monday Afternoon**

Francine studied the dossiers attached to each of the suspect's photographs. Efraim had done his magic on the computer and found extensive background as well as the names of associates whom they were known to connect with. And on top of that, he had found photos of them and their present known locations.

"Damn good work, Beaman," Billy congratulated his agent. "Now, which one of these is the unknown from last nights attack?"

All eyes turned to Francine who shrugged. "I didn't see them up close and personal. I was too busy trying to stay alive."

They then turned to Beaman who held up his hands. "When I saw them, they were inside the Lincolns and it was dark; I didn't see any faces. But my money is on this one," he slid a picture across the table and Billy picked it up and tacked it on the board. "He's been seen in the company of all of these men frequently and he's been in the States for the past year and a half. His is the number that all the others call the most often, who they receive the most calls from. He's the head of this group. Dane Verbeck is the man we're looking for."

"I agree, it makes sense," Lee added his opinion with a nod to Beaman. "Metro homicide is interviewing the people who came forward to ID the bodies; I think we should do a follow up. I want agents on them because if our suspect is the man in charge, he's gonna make contact. He's got to maintain his image."

"You heard him people, get on it. Duffy, coordinate all the teams, I want to know as soon as we have contact."

"You got it," Duffy affirmed.

Beaman got up and followed Duffy. Billy watched as Beaman paced the bullpen, looking over shoulders and checking details. "He's wound pretty tight, we should get him out of here so they can do their work," Billy commented with a pointed look toward Lee before he headed to the sanctuary of his office.

Ignoring the amusement of his wife, Lee shot a dirty look in the direction of his boss' office as he stalked out to the bullpen. Amanda and Francine watched as Lee talked to Beaman; both waiting as Beaman weighed the suggestion. With a glance toward Francine, he agreed when he saw her slight nod.

"He's pretty protective of you right now," Amanda noted.

"I guess he is." Francine went into the bullpen, picked up a phone and ordered a tracking team to follow Lee and Beaman.

Amanda wasn't about to let her off that easy and followed right behind. "You seem to be pretty protective of him too."

"Amanda, is there a point to these observations?

Amanda sat and gave Francine a good, hard look. "Is there something between you and Efraim?"

"Yes, there is. We're partners."

"Well, that's just business Francine. What about after business hours?"

"I'm taking this photograph to have copies made; I want this man's face on everyone's hot list."

Amanda watched as Francine left the bullpen. _You can run_, Amanda thought to herself, _but at least you aren't hiding anymore, Francine. _

**Act III**

**Beaman's Apartment**

**Georgetown**

**2:24 p.m. Monday Afternoon**

Lee kept an eye on the road as Beaman drove through the DC traffic. Beaman had backtracked when he thought he had spotted someone following them, but it had turned out to be the Agency team and they finished the drive to the apartment in silence.

Following Beaman down the hallway, they stopped when one of the doors opened and an elderly lady came out. "Mr. Beaman, the delivery man came today and delivered, well I don't know what he delivered but I will tell you this young man, he was terribly noisy and quite rude.

The men shared a look. "Mrs. Wilkinson, when did the delivery man come? Do you remember?"

"Just after the second commercial in The Young and the Restless, that young Jack Abbot was just about to say something very important and I missed it because of all the pounding! You're usually so quiet, Mr. Beaman."

Beaman pointedly looked at his watch, patted the elderly woman on the shoulder and turned her around. "I'm so sorry the delivery man was noisy Mrs. Wilkinson. Now I don't want you to miss As the World Turns because of me…" he trailed off hoping the elderly woman would take the bait.

"Oh you're right! And tell Miss Desmond to come for tea again, we had such a delightful conversation…"

Beaman closed the door for Mrs. Wilkinson and headed for his own apartment. He looked over the frame as Lee examined the door knob.

"Did you find anything?"

Lee shook his head. "I don't see anything. Could she be wrong or imagining a delivery man?"

"Mrs. Wilkinson? No. A month from now she'll be able to give a description of you right down to the tick in your jaw."

"Thanks; any suggestions?

Beaman put his key in the door and an ominous 'click' had them both diving for the floor. The ensuing explosion blew out the door as well as a good 3 feet of the surrounding wall.

Dust was thick throughout the hallway; the emergency lighting stabbed through the falling particles. Lee pushed pieces of plaster and wall board off as he climbed to his feet. "Damn! This guy really wants to get you!" Giving his hand to Beaman, he helped the man up.

"I'm gonna kill him Stetson, I swear I'm gonna find him and I'm going to kill him."

"Not if I find him first."

**Act III Scene II**

**Beaman's Apartment Complex**

**Georgetown**

**3:00 p.m. Monday Afternoon**

Lee waved away the offer of another cookie after he assured Mrs. Wilkinson that seven was his limit. He set his tea cup down and gave his full attention to the elderly woman seated in the chair across from him.

"I can't believe that Mr. Beaman is gone, we were just chatting. And has anyone told Miss Desmond? I expected an engagement between them and now, well it's just too sad, so very sad," she commented as she wiped away a tear.

Lee felt like a heel misleading Beaman's neighbor, but he agreed with Billy that letting it out that Beaman had been killed in the explosion would give them some tactical advantage. Poor Mrs. Wilkinson had been so upset at the sight of Beaman on the ambulance gurney with a sheet pulled over him; he had worried that the lady's constitution wouldn't hold up.

"They were a lovely couple and so very sweet together. Mr. Beaman always took his guest home at 10:00 p.m. sharp. Now in my day staying out that late with a young man would have branded you as a very unpleasant type of woman, but today I suppose we're lucky that they go home at all. And Miss Desmond is a fine young woman of upstanding character and moral fiber. You don't suppose she'll spend the rest of her life pining for her young man, do you? That would be a tragedy; after my Mr. Wilkinson passed at such a young age, well that was it for me. I'd given my heart to one man forever and forever it shall be."

"That would be a pity," Lee agreed. It was costing him quite the effort to keep from smiling but he didn't want to hurt Mrs. Wilkinson's feelings or worse…explain. But the thought of relating this conversation, detail for detail, to Francine and Beaman helped him to keep his mirth in check.

"It's just so strange that the delivery man somehow managed to puncture a natural gas line in Mr. Beaman's apartment. I didn't even know we had natural gas in this building! A calamity, that's what this is," Mrs. Wilkinson sadly shook her head and looked out the window.

"Mrs. Wilkinson, do you remember what the delivery man looked like? Could you describe him to me? I know the police asked you but maybe you were too upset at the time."

A very determined look came over the woman. "I most certainly remember what that man looked like. I shall do better than describe him dear boy; I shall sketch him for you!" Setting her tea cup on the saucer, she stood determinedly and hurried into the other room.

Moments later she returned with a sketch book in one hand and an old cigar box clutched under her arm; she laid them on her table, turned on the lights and took a seat.

Lee came to the table and sat beside her and watched as Mrs. Wilkinson opened the box to expose a well used collection of charcoals and charcoal pencils. Pulling a short pencil, she opened the sketch pad and made a quick outline of a face. Choosing a piece of charcoal, she shaded and shadowed the face; rapidly adding details with the hand and eye of an expert. Finishing with a flourish, the elderly lady pulled the sheet from the pad and handed it to Lee and waited expectantly.

"Mrs. Wilkinson you didn't tell those police officers you could do this."

"They didn't ask me."

"Of course they did," Lee admonished gently as he studied the picture of Dane Verbeck.

"They asked me if I had seen the delivery man and then they moved on to other things. No one asked me for a description of the man."

Lee certainly understood the value of thorough questioning of a witness. "Mrs. Wilkinson, I want you to call me if you should see this man again; will you do that for me?"

"You don't really think he's a delivery man, do you?"

"I don't know what to think about this man," Lee replied truthfully. "But if he isn't what he appears to be in your drawing, I want you to be very careful and call me at this number." He handed her his IFF card. "Will you do that for me?"

"I will, dear. I will miss Mr. Beaman; he was always so kind to me. Do let me know when he will be laid to rest, will you?"

Lee patted the woman's hand and promised to call her with information regarding Beaman's funeral. He left after having several more cookies pressed on him; hurrying to the Agency pool car that he and Beaman had driven earlier.

Donnelly was in the car next to his and rolled down the window as Lee approached. "We had the spotters on the street all afternoon and while they didn't see our boy, they did see two of his known associates drive by. Nothing new on them, we had their plates and names from Beaman, but it is telling, isn't it?"

"Sure is. Mrs. Wilkinson gave me a picture of the delivery man," he held up the sketch for Donnelly to see. "Seems the Metro Police didn't bother to ask if she could describe the man," Lee said, his tone voicing his disgust.

"You charm this out of her?"

He pulled the cookies from his suit pocket and tossed them to the man. "Yeah and those too," Lee climbed in the car and set the picture down. "You want to leave first and let me pass you a block out?"

Donnelly nodded and the men hurried back to the Agency.

**Act III Scene III**

**The Agency**

**Counterintelligence Bullpen**

**12:33 p.m. Thursday Afternoon**

Francine casually walked over to where Efraim was working on the computer. Sitting on the edge of the desk, she put down a note pad she had been working on and picked up another from the desk.

Beaman reached out and angled the paper so he could read the string of codes that Francine had gotten for him. With a nod, he hit the enter button and they both leaned in to watch the information that began to run across the computer screen.

"This is the one we want," Efraim whispered, accessing the entry that he isolated in the stream.

Francine wrote down the information before going back to her desk. As she started to walk away from Beaman, she stopped, leaned over and quickly said something in his ear which elicited a wry laugh from him.

Lee watched as this happened several times between the two; his curiosity piqued by their off-hand manner. "What are you two up to," he asked.

Beaman hadn't heard Lee walk up behind him and his question had startled him. He schooled his response to be nonchalant. "None of your damn business Stetson-take a hike," he grimaced when he heard his tone; defensive, annoyed and secretive.

Lee laughed and pulled up a chair. "Well now Beaman, how could anyone resist an invitation like that? For a dead man, you're pretty lively on that keyboard; what are you doing?"

"I'm following the money."

"Playing fast and loose with the privacy laws of a foreign government? Tisk-tisk," he admonished, not a bit concerned who Beaman went through to find Verbeck. "What do you think Smyth would say about this?"

"Pass some my way?"

Lee thought about it for a moment. "Maybe," he laughed. "So…what _are _you doing?"

"I told you, I'm following the money."

"How much have you found?"

Beaman turned and looked Lee in the eye. "Twelve million dollars and still counting."

Lee whistled. "Damn, these guys are serious."

"Like we couldn't tell that from recent encounters with them?"

"Yeah," Lee agreed with a raised eyebrow. The phone on the desk rang and Beaman grabbed it as Lee reached for the receiver.

"Do you mind," Beaman asked, not bothering to hide his annoyance with Lee.

"Not at all," Lee leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms over his chest. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Francine on the phone, her back to him. He allowed himself a small smile as he listened to the silent end of a one sided conversation. Whatever Francine was telling her partner resulted in a flurry of entries to the computer that Beaman was working on. Lee tried to angle in to get a better look at the screen, but Beaman was working quickly and the screens were changing at a rate that made it impossible for him to follow.

Dropping the receiver, Beaman fumbled with one hand to locate it, never taking his eyes from the computer screen. Lee picked up the phone, turned to Francine and with a smile at her chagrined look, hung it up.

Beaman leaned in toward the screen, nodded his head and hit the enter button. He spun in the chair, stood and walked directly over to Francine.

She asked him a question that Lee couldn't make out, but Beaman's nod let him know that whatever the two of them had been doing was now accomplished to their satisfaction. Lee wasn't sure what he should do about it, if anything. If he was a betting man, _which you are,_ he told himself, he'd bet that Dane Verbeck was now broke. Lee found he didn't have a problem with that at all.

In fact, Lee considered that when Verbeck found out his assets were gone, he'd be rather upset. He grinned at Beaman as he walked back to the desk he'd been using.

"What're you smirking about Stetson?"

"Excellent strategy Beaman; wipe out the guy's money and hope he goes ballistic. That's one way to find him. If it is drug money, the government gets first take. So, where did you send the assets?"

"That never occurred to me; taking their assets. Move over, let me at the computer again," he sat and spun toward Francine. "Want to give me a hand here," he called out. "Lee's given me a great idea."

With narrowed eyes, he watched as Francine hurried over to them. He pushed the chair back so Francine could sit on the edge of the desk. Beaman explained the 'idea' to her and Lee wondered what the hell they were doing. "I thought you said you were following the money, Beaman?"

"Following and taking are two different things. Following is hard; taking is easy…probably why I didn't think of it."

Lee got up and headed up to the Q Bureau. He wasn't going to hang around and be insulted by someone whose life he would probably have to save. At the door he stopped and looked back just in time to catch Beaman kiss Francine's hand and wink at her. It dawned on Lee that he had just had the wool pulled over his eyes and by Beaman no less. He decided he'd let them play this close to the vest, for the time being.

But damn, they were getting good at this stuff. He had to admit it, Francine and Beaman were partners. And maybe something more….

**Act** **IV**

**A Shopping Center in Arlington**

**4:30 p.m. Friday Afternoon**

Francine pushed the shopping cart through the market, enjoying the act if not the task itself. She had sent Efraim in search of a particular ingredient for a dish she wanted to make. Actually, she had lost several rounds of poker the night before and the payoff was cooking dinner for the next two nights.

All in all, staying at the house in Arlington hadn't been bad, _not bad at all_ she told herself. Though there was an agent in the house with them at all times, Lee and Amanda across the street and Dotty West dropping in when they were home; Francine was enjoying herself for the brief moments when she managed to push the circumstances to the deep recesses of her mind.

She reached for an apple and gave a small cry when her hand was brutally grabbed. Francine tried to wrench free when another hand encircled her neck.

"Miss Desmond, I'm so pleased to meet you at last. Such a pity I missed you at Kimberly's, I'm sure you would have provided us with an amusing passing from this world to the next."

Francine dropped the apple and had the distinct pleasure of hearing the sound of a shopping cart ram into the back of Verbeck.

"Oh, I'm so sorry! I zigged when I should have zagged to avoid that apple! I do hope I didn't injure you!"

A momentary flash of panic washed over Francine when she heard Dotty West's voice. But Francine quickly considered that Dotty had the best instincts for this business that she'd seen since, well, since her daughter came on board. "Debra, I didn't know you shopped here? How are things at the Agency? I'd love to call the Agency one day and arrange lunch; might I call on you?"

Without batting an eye, Dotty smiled. "Lunch would be wonderful. I see you're busy, but we'll follow this up and catch up another time. I'll see to it that getting together again is at the top of my list, Francine. And sir, I do apologize for ramming my cart into you," she said quickly and left without a backwards glance.

"Very smart of you to get rid of her or else she would have had to join our little party. Shall we?" Verbeck took Francine by the wrist and squeezed until Francine let out a small cry of pain. Smiling, he pulled her to the exit, intent on getting her outside.

Dotty followed them as carefully as she could, using the other shoppers to hide her movements. She was about to find a pay phone when she saw Efraim Beaman obviously looking for his partner. Dotty hurried over to him and grabbed him by the arm and towed him to the exit, pointing to Francine being dragged by Dane Verbeck.

"She called me Debra and asked how things were at the Agency; she wants me to call the Agency. I went along with it just as you told me to do if this happened-I told her I'd follow up, oh Efraim, that man was hurting her; who do I call?"

Beaman pulled a card from his wallet and handed it to Dotty. "Call this number; tell the operator you want to issue a Flash Priority…."

"Flash Priority, alright," Dotty repeated.

"Tell them that I'm active on 1-1-1, got that? 1-1-1, it's important."

"I've got it. Hurry, please hurry before he hurts her again."

Beaman rushed out of store as the car Verbeck and Francine were in came down the aisle, nearly hitting him before stopping. Dotty watched as the passenger pointed a gun at Beaman, who quickly jumped in the back with Francine.

"Tomatoes, donuts, watermelon 1014, tomatoes, donuts, watermelon 1014," Dotty repeated the license plate number as she dialed the number on the card that Efraim had given her.

The call was answered and Dotty relayed the information and was asked to hold for verification. A moment later, Billy Melrose was on the line and Dotty repeated what had happened within the grocery store.

Billy hung up the phone and looked at Lee who had hurried to his office when he heard the flash priority signal. "That was your mother in law; she ran into Francine at the market being held by Dane Verbeck. She found Beaman and told him what happened and now Verbeck has both of them. Beaman gave Dotty the Flash code and his signal marker; he's on 1-1-1. The teams are scrambling, get a chopper and let's get out there. And Mrs. West managed to get the license plate number and make of the car they were in."

Lee grabbed the phone and ordered a helicopter as Billy was on another line issuing orders. Leatherneck came into the bullpen carrying a tracking device.

"You know how these work, right Stetson?"

"Yeah; what's the range?"

"Five miles, it's active now and they're heading south east. It looks like they're heading for the Chesapeake."

"Thanks, and do me a favor will ya? Call my wife and tell her to collect her mother and sit on her until she hears from me," Lee took the device and waited for Billy to join him.

"Do we have a signal?"

"Yeah, they're headed toward the bay."

Billy frowned. He dropped his hat on his head and made sure his revolver was snug in his holster. "Let's go," he told Lee.

**Act IV, Scene II**

**Airspace over the Chesapeake Bay Bridge**

**5:29 p.m. Friday Evening**

"I have visual on suspect vehicle, Tango-David-William 1014, can you confirm signal?"

Lee verified the signal. "Yeah, that's them," he replied, giving the pilot a thumbs up.

"Troopers are holding traffic on the other side and they're bringing the rest to a stop; we should be able to herd them across the span and deal with them where there's some room to maneuver," Billy said. "Let's put it down with the road block and wait for them there."

Lee nodded as the chopper moved out and across the airspace above the bridge to wait for Verbeck. Troopers were indeed holding traffic at a stand still and several cruisers were set as a road block and tactical back up. The chopper set down and Lee bolted from the interior as the chopper's blades began the shut down sequence.

A police radio crackled to life, "Suspect vehicle is cresting span, I repeat, suspect vehicle is cresting span."

The group watched as the car appeared on the rise and picked up speed as it barreled toward them. Lee pulled his gun and steadied his arm on the door of one of the trooper's squad cars; waiting and hoping he wouldn't have to take out the driver at the speed they were approaching.

Billy viewed the rapidly approaching vehicle through his binoculars, "There are two suspects in the car; the passenger is Verbeck," he told Lee. He grabbed the microphone and keyed the helicopters' speakers, ordering them to stop just as the car swerved and headed for the guard rails.

The vehicle sideswiped then hit the guard rail and spun, the sound of the impact roaring across the bridge; it struck the rail again, leaping up and over the edge and into the bay. Lee was running toward the side of the bridge as soon as the car had hit the rail the first time. When he reached the side, the car was floating, top up, then slowly began to sink.

The Coast Guard boats were on the scene in seconds with divers hitting the water moments after.

"Anything" Billy asked when he joined Lee.

Lee shook his head, his mind numb from shock. "They didn't even slow down."

Both men were silent as they waited for word from the Coast Guard.

One diver broke the surface pulling someone with him. The second diver was right along side with another person. Billy lifted his binoculars to his eyes. "Francine and Beaman," he announced; relief evident in his voice. "I can't tell their condition from here."

"Any sign of the driver or Verbeck," Lee asked.

Billy scanned the water for the remaining two divers. "No, nothing," he answered as they watched the first divers reach the boat. Boards were handed down; the agents were secured and lifted from the bay. Turning back to the chopper, Billy signaled the pilot for information. Reaching inside, he took the headphones and put them to his ear to listen to the initial report on his two agents.

"They're alive. The driver was killed in the impact. They need a crane to pull the car up. They're going to lift Francine and Beaman to the hospital."

"Verbeck?"

Billy shook his head, took the headset off and climbed onboard the chopper. Lee followed, pulling the door shut behind him. The flight was made in silence.

**Act IV, Scene III**

**Galilee General Hospital Emergency Room**

**6:59p.m. Friday Night**

Amanda hurried into the emergency room and spotting Lee, rushed over to him. "I got here as quickly as I could; how are they?"

Lee shook his head. "They're alive, that's all we know. Amanda, that was one of the worst things I've seen and all I could do was stand there," he released a deep sigh. "They headed straight for the guard rail at top speed. It almost looked as if Verbeck grabbed the wheel which sent the vehicle out of control."

"Verbeck," she asked.

"No word yet."

Amanda hugged her husband. A commotion down the hall got their attention and they quickly walked toward the racket. They reached the examination room that Francine and Beaman were in and entered to see Beaman hop over to the gurney Francine was sitting on.

"Did you mean it? You said it, you must have meant it!"

"I did not," Francine replied at the top of her lungs, her tone scathing in her denial.

"You did too!"

"I thought we were going to die," she told him sarcastically. "What else was I supposed to have said to you?"

Beaman wasn't buying her argument. "You said it; it's out there! It's not like you can take it back!"

"Well I am, I'm taking it back," she said with a toss of her head.

"You can't! You can't take something like that back! I've got witnesses, Francine."

"You've got to be kidding me?!"

"They heard you say it, I heard you say it and you know you said it!" He pulled her into his arms and hugged her.

Billy joined Lee and Amanda as they waited just outside the examination room, his relief obvious upon seeing his agent's conscious. "What are they arguing about?

Lee shrugged. "I have no idea. Something Francine obviously regrets saying."

"Desmond, Beaman, what's going on with you two?"

"Nothing," Francine told her boss quickly before Efraim had a chance to reply. She pulled her hand free of his and folded her arms across her chest, grimacing at the pain the movement caused her.

Beaman hopped up on the gurney next to her and groaned, put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her gently against his side. "You keep saying that Franny, you just keep saying that."

Billy shook his head at the antics of these two. "Okay, that's enough people. Are you two alright?

Beaman nodded. "Do you know I actually saw my life pass before my eyes?" Efraim hurried to continue when he saw the look on his boss's face that said his patience was in short supply. "Sprained ankle, broken ribs, bruised and battered, half drowned; we're just ducky. Where are Verbeck and the driver?" He asked, his tone brooking no argument in this matter.

"They didn't make it," Billy told them. "The driver was killed on impact; Verbeck didn't make it out this time.

Beaman hugged Francine, nodding at something she said to him. "Billy, he was on a cellular phone and if it's still in one piece I can put together a list of who he was calling or calls in to him these past few days; we can really shut down this entire operation."

Francine nodded her agreement, "Verbeck was also speaking Dutch and broken Papiamentu; the Dutch I can transcribe, but I only caught a few words in the other. But he was trying to move funds, obviously money laundering," she sighed and continued. "Kimberly was going to leave him; she was going to ask me for help. He made her call me and ask me to come and get her; he was going to use me to teach her a lesson," Francine shivered at the thought and when Beaman held her tighter, she smiled sadly at him. "She somehow managed to call Efraim and the rest we know."

"For that, I'm indebted to her," her partner said quietly. "As for her murderers, we should have enough evidence to take those we round up to trial and I've been able to trace the money laundering and have put a stop to that too," Efraim added.

"Amanda, your mother…is she all right? When she ran into us at the grocery store…." Francine's voice faded as she remembered her fear for Dotty West and her hope that she could help her.

"She's fine but very worried about you and Efraim."

"Mrs. West obviously pulled the Flash Priority off without a hitch," Beaman commented proudly.

Lee chuckled. "I seem to remember you coming unglued a few years ago when someone else issued a Flash Priority and now here you are enlisting a civilian to call one in!"

Beaman glanced at Amanda and grinned. "It seems that the teacher can learn from the student, especially one with great instincts. Those instincts, by the way are shared with your mother. I'm telling you, she's a natural."

Both Lee and Amanda held up their hands. "What ever you do, don't tell her that!"

"Well," Amanda continued, "why don't we go and take care of the reports and then Lee and I will bring you home with us after you're released; after all you do still have the house across the street."

"What do you say, back to suburbia Francine?"

Francine rolled her eyes, "Oh why not? At least it's quiet there!"

Lee laughed and smiled at Amanda. They shared a look that said it all: _If they only knew!_

**TAG**

**4247 Maplewood Drive **

**6:50 p.m. Monday Night**

Amanda stared out the window of the family room as dusk slipped into night. She sighed as her thoughts turned to the afternoon's memorial service for Kimberly Jones.

_The wind had swept across the cemetery as clouds skittered before the approaching weather front blowing in from the northwest. The small group had gathered graveside, silent as they listened to Francine read from a small book._

_Francine's tears flowed freely as she read from Shakespeare's Sonnets, a gift she had given to Kimberly, she prefaced, after Kimberly's mother died. _

_She wiped away the tears and took a deep breath. She quickly looked up before letting her gaze fall before the people assembled there. "The sad account," her voice broke. "The sad account," she stopped and shook her head, unable to continue. _

_Efraim stepped up beside her and gently wrapped his arm around the slender shoulders of his partner; his hand over hers as she held the book. He finished reading the sonnet for Francine, _

"_The sad account of fore-bemoaned moan,_

_which I new pay as if not paid before. _

_But if the while I think on thee, dear friend, _

_all losses are restored and sorrows end."_

"That was a big sigh," Lee said as he wrapped his arms around Amanda.

"Was it? I'm just thinking about how sad it all was. Poor Francine was so distraught today at the service for Kimberly; I'm really glad she has Efraim to help her get through all of this."

"Yeah, he really cares about her and though she'd deny it, Francine cares about him too." Lee looked out the window at the house across the street and chuckled. "You know, it wasn't as much fun as I thought it would be repeating all of Mrs. Wilkinson's comments about them as a couple. Beaman was quite pleased about the whole conversation!"

Amanda smiled at the memory, "Well, he had gotten lucky with that dear lady being so happy he was alive. I'm not sure Francine appreciated her relationship and Efraim's resurrection being equated with a soap opera though. Mother, where are you going with that cake? Isn't that our dessert?"

"Oh Amanda darling; you startled me! I didn't see the two of you hiding in the shadows over there. What are you doing, spying on Francine and Efraim?"

Lee laughed. "It's not going to work Mom, questioning us to avoid answering the original question; we've had more practice with that ploy than you have."

"Mother, you've been across the street every day since they got there. What ever are you doing over there?"

Looking a little chagrined, Dotty shrugged. "We have cake and coffee and we talk."

"With Francine?"

"You don't have to sound so surprised, Amanda. Francine is a very interesting woman and we have a lot in common."

"With Francine?!"

"Well of course with Francine; and Efraim as well."

Amanda decided to change the topic. "And how is Efraim?"

Dotty smiled. "He's rather fond of Francine."

"He has been for years; I hope this close contact doesn't end that."

Laughing, Dotty headed to the door to leave. "Oh, I don't think you have to worry about that. It seems that Francine is rather fond of him as well. They just haven't told each other! Yet," she added as the door slammed behind her.

"Well, our dessert just walked off again." Lee went to the hall closet and brought out both his and Amanda's jackets. "What do you think of the foundation that Francine and Beaman are creating to help runaways in Kimberly's memory?"

"I think it's a wonderful way to help others and I think it will help Francine too," Amanda said. "I am curious to know how they will be able to fund it though."

"I think that answer is lost to the ages, not that I'll bother looking into it. But Dr. Smyth certainly wanted to know where the bulk of Verbeck's money was hiding."

"Well, if I know Efraim and if he and Francine had anything to do with it disappearing, no one will ever be able to prove their involvement," Amanda stopped as Lee guided her to the door. "Or find the money. Where are we going?"

"I'm following my dessert. If I have to share it with Francine and Beaman, so be it, but I want my fair share!" Lee took Amanda's arm as they walked across the yard.

"Did you know they're going to stay in the house until they're able to find new apartments?"

"Your mother is thrilled."

"I know. I think it was wonderful of Francine and Beaman to see that Mother received a commendation for helping them. But I'm not sure it's good to encourage her this way."

"They aren't encouraging her; they're just appreciative of your mother's natural abilities in this field," Lee noted with a touch of irony. "I'm thankful they had the foresight to set up some precautionary guidelines with Mom. Keeping cool when Francine indicated she was in trouble saved all of their lives." He knocked on the front door of the safe house and changed the subject. "I think we need to get our priorities right in this neighborhood. You're worried about your mother, Beaman is worried about Francine, Francine is worried about him, and no one is concerned about me!"

Laughing, Amanda turned and hugged Lee. "You're right; my priorities are all out of kilter! We'll have to work on that, but later because we are in hot pursuit of our dessert."

"Yeah, I know I know," Lee let out an exaggerated sigh. "But I want some me time."

"Me time?"

"Well _us_ time, you, me and no interruptions." Lee knocked on the door to the safe house again, raising his eyebrows at his wife.

"How about right after we intercept some coffee and cake?"

They both smiled as Beaman opened the front door.

"Perfect," Lee whispered in his wife's ear as she passed him. "Perfect."

THE END

Excerpt from The Sonnets of William Shakespeare, Sonnet 30.

Further information on money laundering-Island style can be found in a archived Time Magazine article titled 'A Torrent Of Dirty Dollars' by Jonathan Beaty and Richard Hornik.


End file.
